An Oversimplification of Her Beauty (2012) Movie Script

Are you recording? Hmm? Are you recording? Maybe. Yeah, you are. Pardon my interruption. What you are about to see is a short film entitled How Would You Feel? Created by one Terence Nance in 2006. How Would You Feel? is an educational film that examines theories about how humans come to experience a singular emotion. In its original form it was presented as a work of fiction. We will interrupt the fim How Would You Feel? from time to time with a new film entitled An Oversimplification of Her Beauty. We will do this in order to provide the context necessary to tell a complete story. So let's say that one day you arrive at your home. It has been a long day, during which you have wod no less than 12 consecutive hours. This is in your case a typical day. However, this particulary a young lady who you know and a little more than like has told you that she is coming to be in your company this evenin. So as you empty your pocs and begin to get settled, you see that she has telephoned you. Of course you telephone her back. She answers. She tells you that she has just arrived at her own home and won't be coming to yours tonight. At that moment, given the circumstances, how would you feel? Now let's say that this particular day began at 8:00 a.m., when you woke up too late to arrive at your place of employment on time. Your daily commute is no less than one hour. Although you arrive on tim, you are disappointed in your inability to awake yourself consistently in situations when you are in a bed alone. You are disappointed because this disability speaks to a lack of self-control. Self-control that you feel entitled to, but do not possess. The evening before you worked late and consequently slept for only three hours. And let's say that you have no bed and no money, and a stubborn yet quixoc do-it-yourself attitude. So, you built your bed in a wood shop using Japanese wood joinery techniques that you learned from a book you found in the garbage. You possess no means of personal transportation, so you elected to transport this bed, piece by piece, on the train ride home, rushing yourself because you expected to be in the company of this lady quite soon. After all, she has told you she would be in your company this evening. So, you empty your pockets, get settled, and notice you have missed her call. You call her back. She tells you she has just arrived at her own home and won't be seeing you tonight. At that moment, given the circumstances, how would you feel? Now, let's just say that over the span of four to eight weeks, this young lady has become a very good friend of yours. This friendship is platoni. Let's say that you are attracted to her. You do not know if she, in the deep recesses of her soul, harbors any amorous feelings for you as you do for her. But when parting from each other's presence, she lightly kisses you on your lips. Seldom, but with intenti, and a hint of mischief and doubt opaque in her pupils. Let's say you and this lady friend have slept together on between four and 18 occasions. And by "slept together" I mean just that, sleeping. Each occasion occurs in either one of your full-sized beds. Each time you share a bed, you grow closer physically, until you cannot get any closer. And let's say that this growth seems mutually fulfilling. It is gentle, subtle, but fortunately it is accelerating in intensit. Of course, each morning after and for varying lengths of time during the days between these encounters... ...you daydream about this most enigmatic of connections. You allow the taste of your time together to linger in your mouth and coat your hands. You think of the food you cook together and the way her navel feels against your fingert. A sweetness prevails. Today, during your frustration with your bed, your income, and your commute, you found respite in the fact that on that particular... Evening you would have the opportuniy to be in her company. You would have been uplifted by just the thougt of spending this time with this woman. The night before you are to meet this young lady, you dream a dream that you remember. Seldom do you remember your dreams. In this dream you ascend above your existence and shed among other things a Western understanding of time. You meet her in a sky. She has taken the form of a sun, but does not emit heat. You ask for the time. She refers you to a moon who unfortunately does not have the same gravitational pull as she. You fall from the sky and are awakened by your alarm too late to arrive at yor place of employment on t. Let's say that this frustrates you because it evidences a lack of self-control. You also overslept because in an exercise in self-discipline, you worked much later than usual, attempting to meet your daily income quota. After work you finished the remaining pieces of your bed. Incidentally, the bed did not fit together quite right because you are not a very good carpenter, nor do you read Japanese. When you brought it home, you stood on the train platform and watched three full trains pass... ...each more full than the next. People pushed themselves against each other. You imagined a collective amorous feeling floating in the air, even though there wasn't enough room for you and your bed. Still, you rushed yourself home, wih this woman in your head. And as you get settled, you see that you have missed her call. Hello. You call back. She says that she has just arrived at her own home and will not be seeing you tonight. Now at that moment, given the circumstances, how would you feel? Now, let's say that in life you are not chronically lonely... ...but the vast majority of your days and nights are spent alone. All the same usually, because you are very busy. Busy with finishing your education... ...so that you can finish knowing who you are, so that you can finish with those years in life during which you have no clear answer to the question... "What do you do?" Generally speaking, with a few notable exceptions, those that desire your company do not interest you in a way that would provoke you to set aside time to engage them. Those that do interest y, those for whom you would manufacture time, do not live in your vicinity, or do not seem so interested in you as you in them. And let's say that a womn who you are presently in love with has decided to enter an exclusive romantic relationship with someone who provides for her the stability and maturity that you cannot. You marvel at the contradiction between the intensity of your love for her and your in ability to accurately express this same love. You wonder aloud when you will grow diffet and occasionally allow yourself to wallow in this gingerly debilitating self-doubt. Now, let's say that at this very moment, you were introduced to this young lady by a mutual friend. You quickly crafted a ren to work closely with her. You collaborated on designs for T-shirts. You became good friends, real friends with inside jokes and clear recollection of the intricacies of each other's body odor even when apart. You were, from the very moment you laid your eyes inside her eyes, intensely attracted to her. You don't have much self-control and you acted clearly on this attraction. Let's say that for a good while, she entertained your flirtatious advances with the timbre and grace of someone with mutual romantic feelings. Let's say that this went on for between four to eight week, and during this time facilitated a concrete attachment, grounded in a sincere care for this young lady's wellbeing and peace of min. This care and concern, possibly one-sided, but at the least entertad by her words and actions, went unchecked and flourished in a direction clearly departing the platonc in pursuit of the romantic. One evening, maybe not at the height of the aforementioned flourishing, but at some point when it was steadily growi, let's say this young lady friend reveals to you that she is engaged in an exclusive romantic relationship with a young man whom she has described to you as both charismatic and caring. She directly tells you that his charisma only kees her periodically content, and he is thus forced to compensate for this in a variety of ways. Also, from both her complaints and your observations of their relationship, you note that although you are completely differet from this young man in both sensibility and style, you are likely to meet a similar, if not identical fate. When she tells you this, you perform some simple arithmetic and conclude that she has been withholdg this information from you for between four and eight weeks. Let's say that in one of your moments of acute self-awareness, you admit to yourself that you knew all along.. ...about her exclusive romantic relationship. She was, indeed, not adept at hiding it. You, of course, chose to ignore it, telling yoursf that her and her boyfried must have an agreement or understanding that would allow for relationships just like the one you have with her. You told yourself this was the case no matter how implausible that inference was. Their relationship aside, you focus on the fact that you perceive her to be attracted to you. She has yet to say as mu, but let's say that after the initial hardship that the news of her exclusive romantic relationship brought about, your rapport with this lady friend eases back into the way that it was before, and your relationship is now augmented with quotation marks, to illustrate the fragility... ...and moral destitution of the situation. And let's say that this is the current state of affairs when you experience this day. Again, not the best of day. You wake up slightly late, you arrive to work late, you to stay later out of guilt, and subsequently you are late for a course you are enrolled in. When you arrive, the professor looks at you coldly and says, "You should have been here" You do, however, manage to finish building and transporting the last few pieces of your bed. Unfortunately, the bed does not function propery because you made it out of pine, which is a soft wood. For the proper strength required for a sturdy bed, you would have needed a hard wood, like maple, oak, or mahogany. Of course, you rush home. Kids on the train often tease you because of the length of your hair. You are amused. You are shamefully dirty because you have not showered, shaved, or applied deodorant in two days. When you get home, you realize that you have left your apartment in disarray because you have not had time to clean it. You, of course, were planning to clean for ths occasion with this lady. You start to get settled. You notice that she has telephoned you. Of course, you telephone her back. She tells you that she has herself just arrived at her own home and will not be able to come and see you toni. Now, at that moment, given the aforementioned circumstances, how would you feel? During your romance wi you were reading a book. The book tells the story of and is trying to g to fall in love with him. This all takes place on a reservation in North What page is it? 90 something... Early 90s. Okay. It says... "I felt him looking at me. "It's what happens with boys like him. "Less said, more felt. "He was bad at that look exchange game. "You always know when they are looking your way, "when if you return the look, they are lookig directly the other way. "The smooth ones either keep looking at you, or subtly divert their eye. "Boys like him turn away because they can imagineu "being wherever they are looking. "I was dancing, and in so doing, "paying close attention to the exciting realities of my flesh. "Probably more attention than "where on me was exposed to the air." That's right? Yeah, that's the part. Okay... "Here on the res, it was pretty easy "for them to set up a lot for the picture show. "Going to the picture show, along with the bingo, "was maybe the only indulgence we were afforded in Western entertainment, "that and the firewater." Have we ever been to the movies together? Uh, I don't remember Hmm, so... "The pleasant movies always gave soft edges to things "and had colors placed in locales unfamiliar to. "Yellow roses, bright brown eyes, stark white pigeon. "Being around him may have been like stepping "into one of those displayed worl, "with fantastil displaced colos "and no knowledge of what might or should happen "Nevertheless, there, in the pictures, "he was entirely in contro. "And another thing, our interaction amounted to glance. "Portions of fractios of seconds "that inspired thoe unfortunately girl, vivid daydreams "that we tend to get when someone of consequee invades our sight line. "Meeting to growing to marriage to famil, "only a moment in real I, but a lifetime in my min. "It occurred to me that at some point, he's going to get me. "My social status as the beautiful and educated "but not intensey Christian one "affords me certain permissis in behavior. "I can stand closer to peop, "breastfeed my son or anyone else's child in the open air, "and stare at people withot seeming rude or mal-intentioned in any way. "So after I had danced, I was left to people-watch. "It was then that I caught myself consuming him, strictly visual feasts, "indulgence in his details, details. "Instantaneous swells of guilt rose around m, and I blinked slow, "so maybe when I opened my eyes, he would be gon. "I did. He wasn't. "But now I had control and kept my thoughts "still, practical, where they should. "Because obsessions are futile, "the dreams they procreae never come to fruition. "Why do they stay fiction? "'Why don't they come to fruition?' you as? "Well, realism, pessimism, and cynicism "are so much safer than the alternative. "You avoid disappointment by not indulging in your yet to be experienced desires. "But you do disable your dres in so doing. "Their nature is a cause-and-effect thing. "You must free them to work on you, "and only then will they oblige yu and come true. "However, had I ben able to stand it, consumed him longe, "I would have come to the opposite conclusion, "but they were just glances." No. Well, this is not the... I thought you was looking for a Lucille. But... Someone... One of May's children. But, no. Maybe you have the wrong number. No, but feel free to call back. Whoever you're looking for might be coming here, I don't know. But who. But I can't understand who you say you're looking for. Uh-huh. Bye-bye. "Pessimism, practicality, cynicism, realism, comfort zones, "I'm actually against all these things. "But at least with him, I still act on them." No, none of this is like me. Would you feel vexed? Slightly irk, confused or confuddled? Exasperated? Displeased? Remorseful? Worn or withered? Heartbroken? Defeated? Piled upon? Suckered? Cheated? Discarded? Unloved? Envious? Enraged? Ignore? Small? Tiny? Microscopic? Atomic? Quantum? Eternal? Embarrassed? Indecisive? Ashamed? Amused? Indifferent? Enamored? Take a moment to ascertain how you would feel if these things happened to you. Why would you feel these ways? Close your eyes and track the source of the feelings. Go on. "Pain," you say? A subtle pain? Interesting... Maybe you are feeling the pain that lies in the void between expectations and reality. Maybe the unnamable emotn you are feeling that eveg is, as emotions tend to be, entirely irrational. An organism without reason. Insecurity, for instance, that parasite has got the best of you. This series of events is not the cause of your momentary feeling. It cannot be that. Consider the emotions. What actually happend is not important. What you must take note of is the self-doubt, the void between who you actually are and who you think you ar. The void between how you actually feel and how she thinks you fee. The void between your perception of your capacity to love and your actual skill set in this regard. Maybe it's your self-assuredness. You have an extraordinary amount of faith in the fidelity of your expectations. Emotions should be expressed. If the cause of your momentary feelings are simply irrational emotio, you need to release them, let them go. Write out the events of the evening in detail. Review the details, consider their absurdity, connect your emotional se to a series of actions performed by people whom you can blame. Blame yourself, blame he. Debunk the rationality of these connections. Sleep, wake up, draw a few images that illustrate how you feel. Do not finish. Draw until you feel lighter. Write more, sleep, wake up. Entertain the idea of calling her and telling her you are madly in love with her. Let the impulse pass, cower from it. Most likely the heartache from the previous night, a physiological symptom of your feelings, has yet to fade. Allow this to amuse you. It's funny if you think about it. The un-wielding grip your emotions have on your physical wellbei. What follows is a brief exegesis in which we explain the nature of your relationships with those with whom you are in love as of the completion of this film. You met Najja when she was born. This was shortly after your own birth. Currently, you do not see her because of the distance. The aforementioned ambivalene ruined your relationship. You were at a time in your life where you were incapable of being direct. She was, at the time, a far more evolved being than you, and was repelled by both your inability to reciprocate affection and speak clearly about your feelings, no matter their implications. You and Joy, although fuy in love, have not attempd a committed relationship because of the fact that you do not reside in the same municipality. However, you hypothesize that the cause of your separation may be more so because you are too sure of the connection's viabili. A commitment to a woman with whom you are so intensely compatible would leave you with nothing else to search for, rendering your distance from her a product of your addiction to the unpredictability of your feast-and-famine romantic existence. On a more pragmatic leve, Joy may just not be that into you. At first you think you do not see Qrescent because she is no longer interested in you romantically. Your ego pushes that thought from your head, and you convince yourself that the nature of her relationship with her girlfriend does not allow for you all to maintain a romantic relationship. You infer, that she is in a blissful place, where some combination of disinterest in you and enchantment with her new relationship inspires her to maintain an un-traversable distance between her and you. Unfortunately, you have not mastered the art of sustaining platonic arrangements in the midst of extreme romantic attract. All of the rational you formulate to explain her current disinterest in yu is simply a way of ignoring your many faults. The armor of stoicism you wear when you are in love. Your inability to commit in simple ways, commit to visiting or calling, commit to being honest. Most of these faults played a large part in the current state of affairs. Her new relationship and its blinding beauty is an easy scapegoat on which to pin the blame of your current separation. You will concede to any rationale in order to avoid the fact that somewhere inside you, you know that she may simply not love you anymore. Hey, you leaving? Me? I would never leav. But I am shrinking Kamo lives on another hemisphere. You long for the idea that she longs for you. She was your first. You wonder what number you are for her. Kudzai lives in another hemisphere, and most likely has forgotten that you exist. In your non-existence, your dreams take hold. They are very powerful. So powerful, in fact, that you often miss things you never had. You intensely miss your yearlong courtship with her, even though it may have never existed. Let's talk about reality. There are elements of this hypothetical situation that are tangibl. They can touch you and can be touched. Unlike your emotions, they are inescapable. These elements are as follows. Number one. You are emotionally unavailable, a symptom of the post-traumatic stress of a previous relationsh. How you feel is not a ret of any series of events, or an irrational emotion fabricated in orr to distract yourself... ...from the necessity of addressg your immaturity. This circumstance is the cause. It is unavoidable. So the night greets you with sleep you do not deserve but need, and loneliness you have imposed upon yourself but do not deserve. The reality is that she is gone. You were not available, so she left. Number 2. The time spent releasing, writing, making films with her, painting her with light, shall we say, was an insufficient substitute... ...for spending time with her in a social setting. You cannot replace those circumstances with these. There is little joy in this new space, mostly quiet smiles and internal musings about what you should have said or done during the moments you are reenacting. Number three. In reality, you cannot write about the situation without recalling the emotions it provoked. Unfortunately, the painful ones reconstitute themselves the most firmly, brutally beating all the endless conversations and comfortable silences. The shame and pain do not erase the beauty entirely, but the beauty stays clear of whatever emotions find their way onto the page. What remains is what bludgeoned you, confused you, shamed you, and emasculated you. I'm in an exclusive romantic relationship. Number four. In reality, chance does not often fall on your side. You do not believe in luck per se, but inevitably, as you begin to write this story, your pen will run out of I, your bed will break, you will kiss her with certainty and not dou. She will turn you away. You will never disclose your feelings. She will find someone new. You will imagine her in your bed at night. She wl occupy someone else's. She will find someone el. In reality, she will hurt you with her silence, her quiet enigmatic beauty, her impenetrable stare, it's blankness, it's indecipherability, it's taste. You will become distracted again, walk into her magic. You will kiss her with I. She will turn you away. She will find someone new, who will watch her, watch you, tell her how you feel. You will watch her not car. In defense, you will forget what happened. You will forget her mind, her mother's name, her favorite color, her orisha her laugh, her smell. You will continue to wri, ignorant, forgetful. You will oversimplify her beauty. You will revise her without her edges. In reality, you love this simple version of h. She is familiar, benign. You will speak to the real her again. Before doing so, you will prepare yourself, pray the new her seems the same as the old her. She tells you she is in an exclusive romantic relationship with a young man whom she likes quite a bit. You retreat, keep your distance, she catches your eye as you pray to a Western god for a closeness with her, a shared secret, a kiss, a hug, a child, a family, a fight, one where you make up and make another child. You are floating involuntarily toward her magic. You will tire of this dance. But never so much as to disengage with it, turn off the music. Even though you know that you should. Even though it may have never existe. What are you doing? One's identity is most often bound in the objectifying eye of the beholder, even if one finds themselves beholding themselves. Thus, disposition and identity are entirely defined by individual interpretation. We will call this phenomenon "the lens." For this exercise, you must imagine an entirely unfiltered and unapologec view of yourself. This self-awareness is necessary in order for us to formulate accurate conclusions. We need accurate facts about who you are and the idiosyncrasies tt define an independent yo. These facts are as follows... And note, like a list of ingredien, the component that dominats the very simple formula is listed first. So first, them. The sight of a certain type of woman causes you to stumble. She is most often brown, maternal, well-read, well-traveled, and capable of holding a note or playing an instrument. By the grace of the goddes, this archetype usually takes notice of you in a way that would divert their attention from your clumsiness. Often, their attention is diverted long enough for you to come across composed and even intention-less. These moments are few and far between, so capitalization is a mus. Rule number two, never, ever let a beautiful person pass you by. You are meditative and masochistic in a way that facilitates your creative functional. You like the poetics of sad songs more. You are, shall we say, more enamored with the bad news. Third, your hope and idealism stem from a far-gone reali, a childhood that took place in a community that provided a wealth of love, knowledge, and support. You are supremely privileged in the sense that you were, throughout your childhoo, provided with a pristinely healthy emotional environment. Your childhood was conspicuously void of an, conflict, and repression. Thus, the trace amounts that are present now have a profound effect on your emotional dispositio. Number four. You assume a persona of ambivalence, aloofness, and at times stoicism in matters of love. You assume this persona as a means of attracting women. It seems to work out better if they believe you to be calm under the pressure of heated attraction. This behavioral mask has been the direct cause of three discrete and meaningful happenings and/or experiences in this hypothetical situatio. The first of these happenings is something that did not happen. You have not been able to tell her how you feel about the relationship directly until of, course, the short film How Would You Feel? Was finished and subsequently screened for the public. I feel pretty strange. No. I mean, it's weird. How many people do you say that to? It's not really a normal situation. It's normal. I have a bit of a... I generally avoid the fact in conversation and direct interaction. Well, if you don't know what to do with it, you might misuse it or abuse it or... Or enjoy it. They're all dangerous things. Because enjoying it, you let go and give yourself in to it, which is completely an uncontrollable thing. So... So... To not be in control, for people that like to be in control, is risky, dangerous. Not so good always. It was definitely weird to see on a big screen in front of other people. Maybe if they didn't know me, that was cool. But I happened to see it for the first time in a screening with a whole bunch of my friends, who happen to know all about you, Terence, and some of our situation. They've heard stories. I've told them stories. I take it that the movie seems to be a critique or an invitation to revisit the notion of... Of having exclusive, special love. So, the notion of being able to love or being romantically involved with more than one person. But, nevertheless, every single one of them is special. Mmm. Well, um... I completely agree. You know what I mean? But I think... As explained in the film, especially that conversation at the end, it's just, like, really a rumination on how relationships or how each relationship is so intricately defined by the circumstances around it. At times. Nothing. So... No, I felt uncomfortable because certain private interactions were publicized, and mainly from one point of view. If we both got to have our little commentary, a little dual-screen action, it would have been a different story. And it's your film, that's fine. But it was like my life put on screen to your music. It's apparent to me that you make movies about your life. No, everyone doesn't. You feel bad? That's true. The only problem is that your truth will never make you feel bad. Hopefully. But it's definite. It's a definite fact that everyone has their own truths. And that's the eternal cause of conflict, and it's not really negotiable. Like, everyone sees the world through their own eyes, so to see it through someone else's eyes, but still have it be an experience that you remember is a jarring experience sometimes if it doesn't coalesce into my truth. Is it? Is coming to theaters this fall. Oh! Your silence in regards to your feelings was not absolute. On two or three occasions you did write her short-form poetry, mostly sent via text message, saying things like... "I want to speak to you in a languae "that only you understan" And... "Where on Earth can you tell the truth "without negative consequences? "Esoteric and ultimately meaningless, I know." Before making the film, you did write r one rather loaded letter. In it, you reveal that when you leave her prese, you stare at your feet while you walk. She said she liked it quite a bit, but has not replied. Obviously, with things such as mail, the gesture is more loaded than the content. B, the second effect of this behavioral mask and assumed ambivalence is also something that has not happened. It is that you almost never inquire as to the nature of her relationships with other men. This leaves you to infer that she is as flirtatios and intimate with you as she is with her other male friends. So, you may or may not be special. Maybe she saw you stumbl. The third happening is that one evening she sent you a message. It read, "I think I love you?" Question mark. "I know I love you," was the response that immediately jumped inside my mouth. But instead, because you wanted to maintain your facade of even-keeled ambivalence, you did not immediately reply. You waited. She called you. You missed the call. Of course you telephone her back. Hey. She said she had to get on the subway and couldn't talk. Nothing more was said about it. So, you did your best to believe that it was a lighthearted, humorous transmission. What is this acting? What am I doing, acting-wise? Your just enjoying my company. Oh, so I'm enjoying your company. Like when I tell you bedtime stories and stuff. You tell me bedtime stories? Pretend like we're in bed. Oh. Okay. Tell me one. This feels like we're at home. This does feel like we're at home in Union Square Park. Really? It does. You just got to tell me something about you. No, that doesn't feel like home. You got to tell me a story about something. Like the stars? That's not a star. It's a plane. That's a star! How do you go about... Kissing someone? You don't head-bump, eh? You make your lips available. So, you like... You go 80% of the way, and let them go 20%. Right? I go 80, you go 20. Note one, as of the completion of the short film How Would You Feel? had yet to create a film illustrating her perspective. You assume she had not because of her full-timeb and active social life. After a few years of waiting for her film, you took matters into your own hands. The following is a trailer for the resulting film. A lot of stuff over here. What kind of stuff? A whole lot of stuff. Stuff like this. See that? No Speak softly. I'm learning how to speak softl. What are you guys trying to... Thank you. This is your first film. I think, yeah, it's your first film. And you are gonna, you're going to make more after, I think. What's the name of this film gonna be? First, there was the void. A temporary void that lasted between two and three weeks. The void was preceded by an explosion. The story begins either after the void, or in the middle of the explosion. You cannot remember whic. You fell in love with her in 2001. The last time you saw her you said goodbye, and left her in her in a third-floor dorm ro. You broke into tears when you arrived at the second floor. By the time you left the building, your eyes were swollen shut and your sinuses filled with mucus. While making the 15-hour trip home, you saw an ext off the highway with her first, last, and middle name on it. Then, there was the explosion. After or during the explosion, you fell in love with her during the summer of 200. You expressed this by giving her a flower made of a gum wrapper. You never chew gum. Sometime after then and before now, she became very close to you in a romantic way. The two of you felt a mutual urge to build a life together. During the fallout of the explosion, you re-united with her in 2004. You had kept a picture of her as a child in your wallet for several years as a teenager. When you later fell in love, you noticed the picture was gone. The Universe decided that you did not need the picture anymore. You moved to South Africa in 2005, fell in love tw. Hey, don't make fun of me. Of course, given the fallout of the explosion, she fell out of love. Maybe not so much because of the explosion, but because of, well, you don't know. She fell out of love and in love with her, the young lady, enter stage left. And she was with him. And she was with him. And she was with him. And she was with her. And she lived on the other side of the world. And she lived on the other side of the world. And you were with this movie. So, in March of 2006, you made the movie. A shorter version of it that did not allude to the fact... ...that it was true. You showed volumes one through three, to be exact. You did not tell her that the film was about you and her when you all were making it, but you thought she may have already known. When you screened the film for about 100 people, they did not know that the film was a retelling of the story of you and her. You hoped only she would notice. That the film would talk to her. And only her. The following letter was written t by Terenc in the summer of 2006. It was written and sent a few weeks after the screening of How Would You Feel? The day afte told Terence she was ending her exclue romantic relationship. June 14th, 2006, 5:27 p.m. Remember how you told me that you met this new guy that you are dating in Union Square? Well, he must be very lucky, 'cause I'm in Union Square right now, and I'm here pretty often, and I never see anybody like you. I guess I spoke too soon, 'cause she looks amazing, but, alas, there are "too many in the wolf pack" as they say. Anyhow, on to the chase. I am writing this letter to tell you that I have e to be in love with you. And before, you know, you were in a relationshp and everything, me being in love with you was as much a source of angst as it was pleasure. But now I feel... I feel... I feel fortunate, the word is "fortunate" I feel fortunate that I love you. And it's a relief because I don't have to worry abt things that I used to worry about. Things like sucking on your lip too long, or being at your houe certain times of nig. I have a new freedom, I guess. It's a new and welcoming freedom. And freedom even at its least intense is stil powerfully sensual and exciting. Do you remember that day we were at the lounge by your old apartment? And we were talking about high school, and high school intimacy, and whatnot? And how there are these little things that our age has rendered no longer excit. You remember that? Anyway, I was thinking ty about the rare occasions when I was lucky enough to kiss a girl in high school, and how back then you knw that kissing was as intimate as it was gonna get that night. So kissing was more epic, it was narrative. Like at the beginning, you're all scared, so you peck around the rs of each other's lips and breathe all heavy, and it's... It was always really funny to me that people have a taste. It's actually a kind of scary thought because if you taste a certain w, then that means there has o be some sort of predator out there craving you. I digress. But the tasting is le the story ending 'cae their taste lingers on your tongue. Anyway, all that to say, I am going to kiss you like that. You know how at the end of letters people always write, "Love," then comma, then their name? I don't like that 'cause when you use the phrase, "Love "comma Terence," who would really know what kind of love I'd be talking about? Anyway, I'm gonna replace the standard "Love" salutation with my well-thought-out definition of love, just to make my message more exact. An art form slightly removed from its intended context, Terence. Terence, how is it that you have come to like so much this girl that sits atop your bed at night, just sipping beer, fighting the fatigue of really hot summer nights as her complaints trail y into soft sighs? As an astute observer of life, I always find it a slighy odd yet intriguing idea that a man's heart can be warmed by my presen. Self-hate or pure inquisition? I may never be sure of the source of my disbelief. Actually, I find I hold my disbelief so strong that sometimes I subconsciously reject the love beams that are cast at me. It's like an invisible shield. If I can't imagine why, then just maybe it doesn't really exist. And if it doesn't exist then, well, I don't really have to do anything about it. If friendship were measured in how much a person understands and accepts another, then would that make you my best friend? I know, I know, it's the word that every guy hates and runs from. "Friend." Ooh! What is the state of a world that runs from friends? But I think I might have lost you in my world. Follow the bright lights down the tunnel, up to the seventh floor. Now, there. Terence. I know you eagerly await my response, so here it is. Because I love the electrodes that dance around your brain and your relentless friendship and understanding hands, I will tell you. As I come to know and love myself, so will I you. I am that I am, and one day, I may love you, too. Emotional memory is your memory of how you felt as opposed to what happened. You have been making this movie on and off for three years. You no longer live in the same city, or know the same people. You value different things in life now. You know that she has forgotten how she felt about you. The memory of the touch of your lips has faded from her mind. You are to her a regrettable sin, seldom enjoyed, pushed away on account of the guilt. Or, more than likely, your relationship with her is a memory so faint in the first plac, it was not valuable enough to keep, to love as you have done. You hope it is the latter, if anything at all. You have been making this movie for so long now that you struggle to remember what happened. You are also starting to forget how you felt. Luckily, you are reminded by the editing process, which forces you to look at her moving in front of you, living often. You think that she has not forgotten how she felt, but in her maturity has dismissed her feelings toward you as juvenile. The memory of the touch of your lips may have faded from her mind. You are to her a past attraction, once enjoyed, pushed away on account of a new, more necessary engagement. You have been making the movie for so long now that you struggle to remember what happened. You are also starting to forget how you felt. Luckily, you are reminded by the editing process, which forces you to look at her moving in front of you. Living often. You don't speak to her, so you don't know what she has forgotten. The memory of the touch of your lips was probably not her fondest memory of you in the first place. She believes you are a slae to the wills and whims of the mysterious and beautiful. And maybe you are. You have been making the movie for so long now that you struggle to remember what happened. You are also starting to forget how you felt. Luckily, you are reminded by the editing process, which forces you to look at her moving in front of you. Living often. You know that she has not forgotten how she felt. She has long ago forced the memory of the touch of your lips from her mind. You are to her a healed cancer, rightfully excised before he metastasized. Turn off the music. Even though you know that you should. Let's recap what you learned in volume th. Reality, part one. First, that you are emotionally unavailable. Second, you are lonely, and making the film with hr did not repair that. Third, you cannot write about the situation without focusing on the worst of it. Fourth, you are quite an unlucky chap. The following adds to this list and further explores the nature of reality. Is it an organism that grows independent of you? Is it ever-present? Is it possible that something that transpires in your real life can have less of an effect on your emotions than something you imagine? What is the code of reality's inescapable and adaptable influence on this momentary feelin? We left off at number four, so number five. In reality, you have never been punctual in your life. You come from a long line of ancestors who operate time based on celestial happenings still undiscovered by the Western world. You are thus out of sync as opposed to late. It is both unfair and culturally insensitive for you to expect yoursef to transform into a model of punctuality within any finite period of time. Number six. Your ineptitude with bed fabrication and construction had more to do with your lack of time than lack of ability. Like cooking, with carpentry, patience is the all-important coefficient in the equat. Seventh and very importa, again dealing with reali, somehow along the way you became gravely, deep, and intensely in love wit Thus, no film nor explanation, nor poe, nor kiss, nor absence, nor presence, nor reciprocation could erase how you felt that moment. It was a symptom of your love. It is a symptom of your love. It will be a symptom of your love. Today, the days before, or the next day. Speaking of the next day, when you arrive home and start to get settled, you again see that she has telephoned you. Of course, you telephone her back. You arrange to meet to talk about the film. You want to interview he, get her perspective, include it. You arrive at her home and sit close to her in a beanbag chair. You ask her questions, she answers. In the answers she tells you that she was significantly enamored with you for a good while after meeting you. But as your relationshp subtly intensified, she choose the practicality and constraint of her and him over the irrationality and freedom of her and you. She also tells you that she has one day previous to this day chosen to dissolve her exclusive romantic relationship. You smile inside. She continues. She tells you that she is dating someone new. After a few moments, the possibility of this information taking the form of a joke fades. Your inner smile fades with it. Of course, after you talk, rewrite some of the script, laugh, hope, the time comes for you to sleep, somewhere. As you would expect for a woman who is taken, she will not be able to house you that evenin. You walk to the door. She lightly kisses you on your lips, with a look of doubt and mischief opaque in her pupils. Now, at that moment, given the aforementioned circumstances... ...how would you feel? Hurt, disappointed, confused. All the bad adjectives that you can attach to a romantic relationshi. And how do you salvage that? How do you... I'm dating someone that might be watching this right now, and I don't want to say anything about it. I got into a... At the end of the day you listen to you heart. Right? My heart is excited at the thought of him, and also very tenuous. Because when you walk into a situation knowing that you're about to be hurt at some point... It's a weird thing. Like, why would you logically do that? It doesn't make any sense. But I'm learning that some things just can't and don't make sense. Ever. I do think that I could get hurt with you. Because I think you're... Hmm... I think you're an artist. I think... What? You have a wandering heart. You don't get into a relationship or not based on the probability of a good or bad thing happening. There is this emotional impulse that I can't explain or understand or control. I hate it for that reason, but I have to also follow it because... How often does that happen? At times. Because I was normally in a position that I would be a bad person if I obeyed it. I get it sometimes, but I think I've been... I think I've kind of conditioned myself. After so long of being in a situation where it wasn't a viable possibility, I started to see you in a different way. In layman's terms, I got friend zoned. Hello? Hey. Hey. Where you at? I'm at home. Am I supposed to be somewhere else? I don't know. Oh, my God! I'm so sorry, I was supposed to come over today, wasn't I? Or actually, maybe it was tomorrow? No, it was today. Sorry. I just got home from work. My mind's just... Anyway, how was your day? It was okay. It was really frustrating. But what are you going to do? I'm going to quit though. When are you going to quit? I know. I can't quite tomorrow. I'm gonna quit, but I just need some time to work it out. So, I'll see you another time? Yeah, I'm sorry, but we can definitely reschedule for really soon. I'll just check my schedule and let you know how soon I can get together. Is that okay? Okay. Okay, bye. Bye-bye.